


Nah, she didn't

by paupotter_4869



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Fifth Year, Grimmauld Place, Marauders era, Memoirs, OotP, prongsfoot - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 11:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5415335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paupotter_4869/pseuds/paupotter_4869
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>OotP one-shot. What happens in Grimmauld Place after the Floo-call between Harry, his godfather and Remus Lupin ends? Reminiscence of the Marauders and of what could have been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nah, she didn't

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wondered what happened at the other side of the Floo-call when talking about James Fleamont Potter after all those years. First fanfic I've ever written, comments will be gladly appreciated! Some ideas extracted from tumblr.
> 
> All credit to J. K. Rowling's work.

“Look, your father was the best friend I ever had and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it.”

When the Floo call ends, Sirius finds himself unable to speak, or move, or to do anything for that matter. He just stays there, knelt before the fireplace, vaguely aware of Remus’ presence beside him, shoulder to shoulder, his eyes fixed into the ashes of the extinguished fire. Oh, no. 

“I’ll get the kettle on”, says Remus, standing abruptly. 

Sirius can’t follow him straight away. He stays there in front of the fireplace for a few more minutes, watching Remus prepare the tea, busying himself in an attempt to forget everything that’s been said in the last five minutes. Sirius wishes to do the same, but the conversation has almost given him a stroke. 

Not because of Harry doubting if Lils ever truly loved James: Sirius has an ever-ending list of the places he found them snogging at Hogwarts while Head Boy and Girl duties, or he could have recited the sonnet James wrote for Lily in sixth year, or his wedding proposal, or even his wedding toast, all of them proof of their truly and undeniable love for each other. It’s talking about James in the good old days at Hogwarts. Young, naïve and stupid, yes, can’t possibly deny that, but also brothers and pranksters. What he’s just said to Harry was simply the truth about James Fleamont Potter --he grins against his will at that stupid middle name. 

With a great strength of will Sirius stands up and finds himself a seat. Few minutes in, Remus turns with a kettle and two cups in a tray and puts it down at the table, before sitting down in front of Sirius. They don’t share a single look until some beats later, when Remus doesn’t even care to reach for the steaming kettle. 

“Maybe something...?” 

“Please,” begs Remus. 

Now it is Sirius who leaves abruptly, almost spilling the kettle in his eagerness. From a cupboard of the dining room, safely away from any guest or visitor, he takes one of the last bottles of Rum. His dear mother used to drink it as if it was water, and since he’s been living in Grimmauld Place again he’s inherited that habit twice as bad. Today even more than ever before. 

He fills both cups before sitting down in front of Remus, both of them silent and deep in their thoughts while drinking slowly, much slower that Sirius’d have wanted to. To their friend and memories. 

They don’t usually talk about James. Or Lily. Even though they’ve been years apart, they really don’t have that much to catch up with. They don’t talk about the Marauders. They don’t say out loud they’re the last ones left, because Peter, Wormtail, he--he’s a traitor. He’s as good as dead to Sirius. 

It’d too painful. Sirius treasures years of happy memories of them four--then again, all five of them--both at Hogwarts and later. The pranks, the laughter, the animagi research, the Map, the full moons, the Order. But all of that leads to the eventual treason, the murder of the Potters, the boy who lived, Sirius’ wrongfully imprisonment in Azkaban, Peter’s flight, Remus’ utter loneliness for one hundred and forty-four full moons. It’s a package deal. The golden days of the Marauders at Hogwarts and the complete despair since that fateful night of 1981. It’s been 14 years and he’s learnt to live with that--had to--but contractually obliged to never speak of it again or he’d succumb to despair. 

Yes, silence is better. 

For the first ten minutes. 

Then all of a sudden Remus just bursts out laughing, leaning against the table. 

“What?”, asks Sirius, smile spreading across his face without even knowing. 

Crying from laughter, the other Marauder has a hard time finding words between breaths. Sirius is giggling before his friend can start a sentence, even without knowing what is Remus remembering exactly. 

“Remember that time, in sixth year...”

“First night?” asks Sirius. With a nod from Remus, he doesn’t need anything else to know exactly what he means and joins the burst of laughter. “Of course I do. James and I hexed the Sorting Hat to only speak Gobbledegook. They couldn’t fix it till next day --first time in the history of Hogwarts that the sorting was ever delayed.” 

“Broke the records of earliest detentions in the history of Hogwarts, too,” adds Remus. 

“Well, it was worth it. You don’t know how much time James and I had spent that previous summer rummaging the Potter’s library searching for that spell,” Which was only possible since it was the summer he ran away from home and stayed at the Potters, while recovering, the last few weeks before term started again. 

“I do, actually. You never stopped bragging about that."

“Like I said, worth every second of detention. Had to lie to James’ parents, though. Told them we wanted to prepare for classes, since it was OWL exams year.”

“Which is probably why you never once opened a book that year." 

“If I hadn’t, could I have achieved Outstanding in most of the OWLs I took?” 

“Hurts me to say this, but probably, yes." 

“I have to say James also outstanded that time he asked Lily out in fifth year...” 

Half an hour later, they are still laughing hysterically at the kitchen table, with a little help of the bottle of alcohol --which, in all honesty, it’s emptied faster than the memories themselves. They laugh until they cry, reminiscing some of their pranks and their teachers and school-mates reactions (some praised them now and then, Dumbledore more than often), the trial and error of their animagi research, their prank effectivity improvement thanks to the Map, teasing James for his attempts at flirting, and teasing him even more when he finally got his first date with Lily; or after leaving Hogwarts, searching for an apartment, and then finding out Lily’s pregnancy and freaking out for every one of her cravings, breakfast, lunch and dinner at the Potters, Christmas at the Potters, taking Harry with Sirius’ motorbike, introducing themselves to Harry as Padfoot or Prongs, spoiling that kid rotten, or babysitting him when James and Lily really needed a night off. 

Eventually they settle down, from laughing hysterically to simple giggling, catching their breath. 

“Oh, the good days,” murmurs Sirius, drying tears from his eyes and cheeks. 

“Good days indeed,” agrees Remus in front of him. “Once a Marauder, always a Marauder.” 

“Always,” repeats Sirius, drinking the last sip of Rum. 

And then the reality hits Sirius again, harder than ever. During this brief moment of happiness and reminiscence they’ve barely mentioned Wormtail, the Order of the Phoenix, the war, Voldemort, or anything dark or remotely unhappy that happened after Hogwarts. Sirius can hardly understand how is he able to do that, talk about James so easily, first with Harry, now with Moony, laughing, without a slight remorse or guilt. As if nothing ever happened. When it’s completely his fault that James and Lily aren’t here too, laughing with them, remembering their years at Hogwarts with a bitterness of laughter and nostalgia. 

How he’s to blame that Remus was completely alone for twelve years, almost resourceless, getting fired of every job he got because no-one would hire a werewolf permanently, spending all alone every full moon since then, getting more scarred for life because nor Padfoot, Prongs or Wormtail were there stop him from hurting himself--he’s briefly seen some new scars in Remus’ arms that he fully knows will never heal. 

Or how it is his fault that James and Lily’s son--his godson, for heaven’s sake--was an orphan and had no-one at the age of one-year-old, with the scar of that event forged forever in his forehead, and had to grew up without his parents, or a caring family for that matter, and never knew anything of the magic world or his parents’ sacrifice and valor until he was eleven, or never again has trusted any adult figure in a dangerous situation. Not so friendly reminders that have never left him, but instead harbored him everyday for twelve years while in Azkaban. 

The most remarkable thing is, despite everything Harry’s suffered, he’s grown to be the kind, honest and loving young man his parents wanted him to be. He could be doing so much worse and yet he’s a brave and brilliant boy and wizard. He’ll turn out to be a wonderful man, just like his father, and a great husband and father too. Sirius loves him. Not because he’s James and Lily’s son (though obviously, if it weren't for them he would never have met him), but now that he’s actually met and interacted with the boy, only fourteen years later than it should have been, he truly and genuinely loves his Prongslet and cares about him. 

“We must tell him,” he decides, his voice hoarse from the overwhelming feelings and trying to choke back the tears. “Harry. We must find time to tell him everything he should know about James and Lily. How they were amazing wizards. Their disastrous first date at Hogsmeade. How in seventh year Lily used to stay up late in our dorm, ended up asleep and James let her his bed, forcing me to share mine with him. Their fights for the perfect apartment for raising a family. He must know who they were, he can’t forget them, he--”

“We will,” stops Remus, holding firmly, but kindly, Sirius’ arm. “We’ll do it, Sirius. We’ll find a time. They won’t be forgotten. It won’t happen, I promise you that.”

“Before anything happens to us,” insists Sirius. 

“Nothing’s going to happen,” says Remus with his soft voice. 

“That’s what we used to say at Hogwarts. That we all’d survive the war. And look what’s happened. He needs to know”. That he once knew love. That he once had a caring family who loved him and made him laugh and fed him and sang him to bed and wanted to be with him more than anything. Just--they wanted more for him to be safe. The same way as they swore to their mischiefs at Hogwarts, they all swore they’d protect Harry at all costs. That’s the only reason why James’d go into hiding while everyone else fought the battle against Voldemort. He and Lily gave their lives for Harry. Sirius’d do the same in a heartbeat today, and he knows Remus’d do it gladly too--if that meant Harry would have a life in a world in peace. 

“Soon.”


End file.
